How It Was Supposed To Be
by panneler-san
Summary: Something strange is on his sister's forehead. ON BREAK
1. Preface

Preface

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry saw a flash of green light, felt the resurrection stone slip from his fingers, and everything was gone.

He felt a draft, as if the wind was blowing. It took him a few moments to realize that he was still breathing before he opened his eyes. With shock, he realized that he was not in the forest. Nor was he even remotely close to the school. In fact, he was in a world that was almost completely white. Large stone pillars surrounded him on both sides. He was just beginning to wonder where he was when he heard a terrible, ear-splitting cry.

Jumping to his feet, Harry looked to the source of the noise, and cringed back in horror.

It was a shriveled, disgusting being that was in the shape of a baby. It was shrieking and crying, as if in pain, and Harry wanted to help it, but just as he took a step forward, he heard a voice he knew well.

"You cannot help."

He turned around to see Albus Dumbledore walking to him, smiling.

"Harry," he said, "You chose to die to save everyone in Hogwarts. You have done what your mother did."

"Professor?" whispered Harry. "But…you're dead, aren't you?"

"Oh yes, Harry, I am quite dead."

"Then, I am too?"

"On the whole, dear boy, I think not." replied Dumbledore, his eyes sparkling. "You see, as I said, you have sacrificed yourself to save others. Your mother did this to save you. You have done what no other Wizard could have done. No one has saved on a scale like this before, and that is where some ancient magic comes in."

"What ancient magic, sir?" asked Harry, confused.

"You would recall, I trust, the Mirror of Erised that you stumbled across in your first year?" asked Dumbledore. Harry nodded. "When one has such a great amount of love in his heart as you do, and that one has saved as you have, your own personal Mirror of Erised grants you your dream for one year. In other words, my dear boy, you will be living in your dream."

Harry sat down on the white ground, feeling his heart rate accelerate. "Living in my dream?" he breathed. He would get to see his parents…

"After that one year is up, however," Dumbledore continued, "You will have a choice."

"What choice is that, sir?"

"You may choose to either come back to your own world, just as you left, and you may have a chance at defeating Voldemort for good. Or, you may choose to pass on, and remain in your dream. But remember, not everything will be as you expected it to be."

"Sir," said Harry, "The thing that I wished for most in the world was a family. But in order to have that family, two things could happen in this dream of mine."

"So, you have discovered the sad truth," stated Dumbledore, a sad smile on his face. "Yes, Harry. One thing that might happen is Neville Longbottom will bear that scar on your forehead. It will be his, not your, parents that have died. Another, less sad truth, is that Lord Voldemort might cease to exist altogether. We should hope, I take it, for the latter. And now Harry, our time is up."

Harry stood, looking over his shoulder, wondering how he was getting inside this dream world. "Tell me one last thing," he said, glancing back at Dumbledore, "Is this real? Or is this been happening inside my head?"

Dumbledore smiled as Harry's vision started to go fuzzy. "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

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**Well, everyone, I hope you enjoyed the preface, even though it was a little short. The first chapter will be out super soon, trust me! Please reviwe if you get that chance!**

**Thanks, panneler-san **


	2. The Family Never Known

**Surprisingly, I DON'T own Harry Potter. I know, you're shocked.**

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The Family Never Known

Harry

"Harry…"

He groaned. What was Dumbledore talking about?

"Harry… Wake up…"

For once he wished he would stop being so cryptic…

"OI! HARRY!"

Harry jumped, giving a startled yell and opening his eyes. He saw a shape before him, and realized he was lying on a bed, the sheets a tangled mess around his feet. His glasses were not on his face, so the shape in front of his eyes was fuzzy.

"Finally!" said the voice of a girl. "You'd better wake up! Dad already used that ankle hoisting charm on me, and since it's your birthday, I thought I'd spare you the pain. Mum's coming upstairs now, so hurry and get up!"

The fuzzy shape disappeared, and Harry sat up, rubbing his head in confusion. His hand hit hard wood when he put it down, and he felt the outline of his glasses. He put them on, just as another shape appeared in what he supposed was a doorway.

It was a woman, with beautiful red hair and green, warm-looking eyes. She smiled at him. "Good morning, Harry," said Lilly Potter.

Harry blinked. Then he remembered. He was living in his own dream. And standing before him was him mother. "Mum," he whispered, "It's really you,"

Lilly tilted her head to the side, a little confused, but smiled and said, "Happy birthday!"

Harry jumped to his feet and threw his arms around her, too happy for words. Lilly hugged her son, still baffled at what was making him so ecstatic, but shook the thought off, coming to the conclusion that it was just his birthday.

"After a minute or so, she kissed his cheek and said, "Now go brush your teeth! Then come downstairs. Your father decided to cook breakfast today…bless him…and don't forget about your party!"

His mother left, and Harry took a look around what he supposed was his room. Besides the unmade bed, he saw pictures on a wooden dresser, Quidditch posters lining his walls, a closet filled with evil-smelling clothes, and even a few books scattered across the floor.

Harry exited out his bedroom door, learning that he was on the second floor of his house. The door next to his was a bathroom, and he went in, finding a dark blue toothbrush. Guessing it was his, he brushed his teeth and washed his face. When he looked in the mirror, he gasped. The skin on his forehead was smooth. There was no lightning-shaped scar that dominated his features.

Amazed, he started down the steps that led to the lower level. Halfway down, however, something slammed into him, sending him and whatever it was that had hit him tumbling to the bottom of the stairs.

"Ouch! Harry, you should know better than to walk so sneakily! I didn't even see you!"

It was that voice again. The voice of the girl. Harry looked around to see a girl just about a year younger than he was, with long, black hair and deep brown eyes. She looked upset.

"Be careful next time!" she called, standing and rushing into what looked like a kitchen, where a man with the same black hair and eyes was standing, waving his wand.

"Ava, give your brother a break," the man said, "It's your own fault for trying to jump all thirteen steps every morning!"

It was his dad. Harry smiled so hugely, the man and girl looked at him strangely, but said nothing. And… he had a sister.

"So," said Harry, standing up, the smile still on his face, "What's for breakfast?"

His mum and dad were alive, he had a sister, there was no scar on his forehead, it was his birthday…

What could possibly go wrong?

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**Please review!**


	3. Bathilda Bagshot

**I don't own Harry Potter. STOP REMINDING ME!**

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Bathilda Bagshot

**Ava**

"Harry! _Harry!_ Harryharryharry!"

Harry finally looked up from his plate. Ava crossed her arms in an act of impatience. "What is it, Eva?" he asked.

She blinked. "My name is _Ava, _Harry. Hit your head too hard on the stairs?"

"Err…Yeah. So, what is it?"

Ava glared at him suspiciously, but said, "Mum wanted me to tell you that you're having a surprise party. So, surprise. She also wanted me to tell you that the guests will be here in just about thirty minutes."

"Excellent," grinned Harry. "Who's coming?"

"I dunno. Sirius, Remus, obviously." Ava said. "I think dad invited the son and daughter of one of his coworkers at the ministry. Oh…and _he's _coming, of course."

Before Ava could give him a chance to wonder who _he _was, she went upstairs to find her mum.

She got dressed, ten minutes before the scheduled arrival of the first guest. Arranging her long, black hair in a way that made her look like she was as old as her brother, she closed the door to her bedroom.

Suddenly, she frowned deeply. "It happened again," she whispered. She went to her window and looked down at Godric's Hollow, the frown still etched on her face. Then, after a minute or so, she whispered, "I have to talk to Bathilda,"

**Harry**

There was a loud knock at the door, and Harry abandoned his half-eaten breakfast to answer it. This would be the first guest. He wondered who it would be.

He grabbed the handle and yanked it open, seeing two people with flaming red hair.

"Ron, Ginny!" he called.

The two Weasley's looked at him strangely. "Have we ever spoken?" asked Ron.

Harry felt the shock wash through him. His face went momentarily blank, then in desperation of the moment, he said, "No. Just thought I'd welcome you."

The two Weasley's didn't seem to think his words were out of the ordinary, and without another sound pushed past him into the house. They didn't look happy to be there.

The horrible realization washed over him. He wasn't Ron's friend. They hadn't even talked to each other before. That meant…

He stole a glance at Ginny, who was inspecting some family photos up on the wall. She didn't know. As long as he was living in this dream, she would never know what had happened between them in the real world.

Suddenly, Ava landed at the bottom of the steps. He guessed that she really did jump ever step. Her hair was up in a messy bun with an enchanted clip in the shape of a butterfly that kept changing colors. She was smiling very wide.

"Hullo!" she called to Ron and Ginny, straightening herself out. "You two must be Weasley's! I'm very glad you came! And so is Harry!" she turned to him, giving him a hard stare and asking harshly, "Right?"

"Yeah," he mumbled.

Ava smiled, glad he responded the way she wanted him to. She started walking to the door. "Well, I would stay to chat longer, but I've got something to do. Rather important, I hope you understand."

All three of them nodded absentmindedly, as if they didn't really care weather or not she left. Harry noticed that Ron was staring at her in a peculiar way.

Ava opened the door and said over her shoulder, "Harry, tell mum I'm going to Bathilda's. I'll be back in thirty minutes. Answer the door for the other guests, and don't be rude!"

Harry could say nothing as she slammed the entrance shut. Ginny and Ron stared after her, their eyes wide. Harry thought his sister was a little odd, but brushed it off.

**Ava**

The moment the door to her house closed, the smile slipped from her face. She hurried past the steps and down the street, glancing over her shoulder. After two minutes of walking, she passed the front of the local Cemetery. She, however, preferred to call it a graveyard. For the middle of July, it would have been odd to anyone else walking the streets that day that there was a cold, almost unnatural chill that surrounded the graveyard.

But to Ava, this feeling – the kind you got right before it snowed – was nothing new to her. This would have been the hundredth time she had experienced it in the last two months. As unnerving as it was to admit it, she was almost used to it.

Bathilda Bagshot's house was less than a minute away from the Cemetery. Once it came in sight, Ava started running to the door. Once she reached it, she was breathless, and knocked three times, wheezing for air.

"You can come in, child." Came the soft yet elderly voice of Bathilda.

Ava took no time to hesitate as she opened the door and pushed herself inside. The smile was rekindled on her face as her eyes met her friend's.

Bathilda Bagshot was quite short, with gentle yet sharp blue eyes and long-forgotten brown hair that had turned white many years before. She wore a quite plain (and ugly) black dress that was made of rough fabric. There was a matching knit shawl that hid her hair and slightly shadowed her face. She was smiling quite droopily, due to the effects of long-term gravity on her skin. But Ava knew that Bathilda Bagshot used to be one of the most gorgeous girls in Godric's Hollow.

"So," said Bathilda as Ava sat in a chair before her, "Did you hear that voice again?"

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**Okay, I know. That was the shortest chapter in the history of earth. The next one will be longer, I swear to you! If you have anything you would like to see in this fic, please tell me. Reviews are much appreciated!**

**Panneler-san **


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